To Kill A Nation (working title)
by xXHetaliaxOtakuXx
Summary: Prince Arthur, the incarnation of Pride and the damned child of Satan, has no idea that a trip to the Land of the Living would uncover the hidden truth in the unsuspected lies of his past. The only way back to Hell, and the only way the retain his throne, is to kill a nation for their sins. How hard could it be for Satan's son to complete? How wrong Arthur was to ever think that...


Six months ago, Satan left the throne to his son, Arthur, while he decided to relieve himself by taking a vacation. Six months ago, Arthur found a portal, to where it would take him he hadn't the foggiest idea. The little devil practically jumped out of his skin once he saw it —which wouldn't be hard to do, after all he _is_ dead— and bolted over to investigate.

"How the bloody hell did _this_ get here?" He exclaimed, looking up and down and around the portal, his arrowed-tail swishing to and fro in excitement and confusion.

Anything remotely unusual was never a topic Arthur chose to think about. Though he was quite surprised and very curious as to why he found himself wondering what could be living on the other side of this Portal, and wanted answers. And he thought it would be easy enough, after all, he is the damned child of Satan and Prince of Hell. From the day of his sixteenth birthday, he had helped in ruling the Underworld beside his father.

Now twenty-three, and his father off on a thousand year holiday, he is managing fine. And when his greatness returns, Satan will hold a coronation for his son and Arthur would become the new King of Hell.

Even after the passing of two months, Arthur could barely concentrate on his lessons, or battle strategies. The portal was taking up almost all of his mental space, and the young regal didn't know how he could get rid of it all.

Arthur sighed, "I can bloody-well _see_ the portal that connects Hell to the 'Living World', but what goes on up there? Why is everyone so hush about them?" The young devil swished his tail, while his horned head bobbed as he walked across the volcanic tundra he called home. He so desperately wanted to know, that he would personally go to the Land of the Living _just_ to understand how on earth they lived.

Raking a pale hand through his hair as red as wine, the Brit thought deeper still. "What if there's a chap up there who looks like me? What if the the portal is the doorway to another dimension—" But Arthur's mulling came to a haltering stop when he was interrupted mid-speech by a maniacal, chortling laugh.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the approaching devil, keeping his tone sickeningly-polite, "Well, if it isn't the Hero of Hell and my single adviser himself! What brings you to me, Alfred?"

Before long, Alfred's laughter had simmered-down to a humorless chuckle, before the older demon flicked his ebony bangs to the side. "I overheard your thoughts on the Land of the Living, Your Evilness. For the love of Satan, why would one of the Devil's Sins _and_ Satan's only son wish to learn about such a place?"

Trying to let Alfred's taunt slide off his back, Arthur straightened up and squared his shoulders. "Well, you heard me correct. I, who follows the teachings of my father, Satan, as the incarnation of Pride, order you to grant me access to the Land of the Living!"

Still keeping his confident demeanor up, yet his tone turned a little scared, if not horrified by Arthur's request. But Alfred still nodded in acceptance. "Very well. I, who follows the teachings of our sinful emperor, Satan, as the incarnation of Gluttony, accepts your wish. Come on, let's go to the royal meeting and we shall talk further on the subject with the other Allies."

Though he had held his tone somewhat light as well, Arthur noticed an unnatural stiffness that had consumed Alfred as they walked through the halls of the World Conference building. He had all the good reasons to. It was the truth that no one had spoke of the Land of the Living for more than two-hundred years, before Arthur was even born, for the imperial Satan and his Seven Deadly Sins had vowed not to speak of it or dire punishment would be the result of any demon who broke the pact. So Alfred had every reason to be scared of being sentenced a fate worse than death.

Upon opening the meeting-room door, the two demons were met with four other pairs of questioning eyes. Everyone was there, even Matthew was seated, not as transparent as he usually looked.

"Ah, if it izn't His Hellness, Prince Arthur! And your Advisor-slash-Captain of ze Guard, Sir Alfred. What are your excuses for being late _zis_ time, _mon amies_?" exclaimed Francis, the incarnation of Lust, who was gingerly sipping on expensive wine while eying the two late-comers.

"Get this," Alfred started, sounding more confident and fearless than he felt, while sticking his thumb in the direction of Arthur, "Prince Pride here says he wants to go to...the Land of the Living."

After a moment on shock to allow the truth to sink in, the room was in total uproar. Everyone was shouting, cursing, forgiving Satan for such words to escape. If it weren't for Yao's manipulative words that sent the whole room silent, the reaction of everyone in the room would of never ended.

"Now, now, everyone! We should give this a chance! I mean, when was the last time Old Man Satan dealt a punishment on us for speaking of such things, aru?" The wise, but smooth-talking Chinese demon cooed.

"Shut up, Greed! We all know your only intention is to manipulate and destroy those around you for wealth and other such Vices!" Muttered the incarnation of Envy, Matthew, but obviously no one really took his word seriously.

"Alright, that's enough! I'm only curious, that's all. Now will you tell me more or not?" Arthur pressed, head-set on getting his answer. After a long and heated convocation between the four nations, they agreed to tell him.

The tallest of the demons and the incarnation of Anger, Ivan, finally spoke as the convocation ceased to a background whisper, "Alright, we have come to an agreement. We will tell you all we know, but on one condition—"

But, being a stubborn little devil-prince, Arthur didn't care of the consequences. He just wanted exactly what he desired; and answer. "I don't bloody care about stupid conditions! What _could_ my own father do to me? I'm his legitimate son, he can't lay a _finger_ on me!"

Ivan was stunned for being interrupted so abruptly, but slowly started to smiled mercilessly, "Careful now, young Prince. Satan may be your father, but that doesn't mean he'll dish out special treatment for you. This is the Devil you are talking about, da?"

Arthur stared hard at the tall nation, suppressing a gulp. He straightened up and told Ivan to continue, but did not dare swallow his pride.

"And that one condition, that Satan himself made, stated you will be exiled from hell and set a task of killing a person —no, a _nation_— from the Land of the Living for their sins. Then, and _only_ then, would you be allowed back home. You can have as much time as you please, yet even Greater Demons like us can't survive for more than two months."

"But, in order to go, your horns must be cut short, and your tail, ears, wings and fangs _must_ be kept hidden at _all_ times. And you know _exactly_ what happens to demons zat escape to ze Land of ze Living without a proper disguise, don't you?" Francis chipped in, pouring another glass, locking his deadly serious gaze onto poor Arthur, who reached to his horns protectively. This time, he didn't bother hiding his fear.

Alfred saw this, and for half a moment, his expression showed his understanding. He knew the prince more than anyone else, more than his own father. He knew the dark secrets of the prince's past that Arthur didn't quite know of, the dark lies his father had told him...

"I will take responsibility over our Prince," Then he added with his goofy grin that not many had seen, "Dude, it's the hero's duty to defend his _princess_ at all costs..." Arthur knew Al would act like a smart-ass at some point, but the statement didn't cease to make him blush out of embarrassment. But a small, _atomically_ small part of him was blushing out of love. He just didn't know how much love he felt.

"Well then," Ivan said, "When would you like to go, Your Sinfulness?"

Arthur looked down. He had killed simple-minded humans before, but not a country. Suddenly, he felt the weight of Alfred's hand on his shoulder, his way and the _only_ way that he could talk to Arthur with his mind.

_"Don't worry, you don't have to go through with this if you don't want to. I'm here, Arthur, it's alright."_

Holding back a scream of delight at his touch, Arthur shivered. He _had_ to do this, he _wanted_ to do this. But he _couldn't_ let his feeling get in the way of his goals. Demons weren't supposed to have feelings, but incarnations of the seven Sins had them. That was one burden Arthur had to carry, whether he liked it or not.

Reluctantly and regrettably, he shook-off Alfred's grip and replied to Ivan, his stare inhumanly fierce.

"_Tonight_..."

And, for the rest of that day, Arthur secluded himself in his room, afraid to ever come out again. "Did I do the right thing? Is this the best for me?" he asked himself, though he'd never be able to give his own soul the answer. The young prince knew most demons didn't survive their first month on Earth, for they couldn't get used to the climate and air supply. Chewing his bottom lip, he could only wish that he'd return safely, and all in one piece.

The grandfather clock ticked, reminding Arthur his time to think about his decision was running thin, as the clock hands inched closer and closer to the twelve. He lay sprawled on his four-poster bed, the canopy stitched with the finest spider silk. He could hear the call of the portal waning on him, and locked-in his fate.

A short rap on the door startled Arthur, but he eased down as Alfred walked in.

"My Mercilessness? It's time to go, are you ready?"

Arthur abrubptly sat up, looking hurriedly at his advisor, but quickly tried to calm. Though Alfred's eyes were quicker. "My prince, you really don't have to do this. All you have to do is say the word and it will all be cancelled." He said with such sincerity, it would make any normal human trust him. But Arthur wasn't human, he knew that much.

Failing to meet his gaze, Alfred stepped closer until their faces weren't even two inches away from each other, "_Arthur_..." he said with a voice like honey, but the edge of his tone startled the prince. The soft spot he kept for Alfred enlarged, and Arthur found himself gazing up at Alfred, longingly.

Tension glinted in Alfred's eyes, as if he was controlling himself purposely. But that didn't stop him for long. Within a blink, Alfred had planted a butterfly kiss on the prince's cheek, yet the impact zone felt icily-cold and continued to send volts of electricity to his spine and butterflies to his stomach.

Alfred pulled away quickly, his composure and hard glare back. "It's an incantation I recently mastered, a courage charm. While the mark is invisible to the human eye, it will ward off any evil you meet and will keep you stronger if your powers run low." Alfred explained, not an ounce of softness in his tone. But Arthur wouldn't stop blushing. He almost felt a withdrawal coming on, he longed to let loose his passion and kiss Alfred back, but held himself back.

"Okay, I'm ready." The prince whispered, and hand in hand, Alfred whisked Arthur away to the Portal.

It didn't take long to get to the Portal, though the fear had already begun to eat at the prince's self-assurance. Growing up, he was usually an eye-witness when it came to Judgment Day. Every week, there was a day reserved for prisoners and sacrifices to receive their judgement, hence the name was chosen. Most of the time, they were just burned or branded, sometimes prisoners were tortured to death. But the worst punishment you could receive was getting your horns cut short, or cut off completely.

Demons without horns slowly became Silents, monstrous souls with nowhere to go, over several months. Your regenerative powers slowed to nothing and your body began to deteriorate, and if you couldn't be transmuted to a new body, you'd turn into a Silent. A demon's horns represented their originality, and in most cases, their power. Without it, just like humans without water, you'd die.

Arthur and Alfred stopped at the Chamber, where public executions and sacrifices were made. Yao was sharpening a large surgical saw, and once he caught the horrified eye of the young prince, he grinned evilly, showing off his blackening fangs.

"No need for that, Greed." Ivan placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, though his tone was everything but gentle. Yao scowled up at the taller devil, and went back to his work.

But Greed wasn't totally finished with his duty of making Arthur's life hell, pun intended. "Say, Gluttony, how much do _you_ think we should chop off, aru? I personally think the whole lot, it would defiantly bring out his _miserable_ eyes."

Alfred looked to Arthur, his face stricken with repulse and sudden tiredness he didn't notice before. He stared back at Yao, his expression murderous. Wrath and Lust rolled their eyes, as Ivan called Arthur to the examination table welded to the rusty-iron floor.

Arthur was trying his best to not retch at the thought of having his horns pulled out like teeth, though he knew well that wouldn't be the case so long as Alfred was around.

"So, just the horns cut short and nothing else, da?" It was more of a remark than a question, yet Arthur nodded in reply as he lay down on the hard, bloodstained torture-table. The young devil strained his eyes to see Yao hand over the sharp surgical saw to Ivan, before he felt a strange pressure on his chest and legs. He knew what they had done, and started to panic.

"Oh, just a safety precaution, _mon amie_. We don't want to be 'eld responsible for cutting right down ze middle of your 'ed if you so much as shuffle an inch out of order." Francis explained, without any comfort or pity in his voice for the prince. "Not like _I_ need it," Arthur thought stubbornly.

"Just bloody well get it over and done with." Arthur tried to keep most of the shakiness out of his voice, but was still punished with Greed and Lust's sly, psycho grins, as they secured short-chained cuffs to his ankles and wrists. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as Ivan drew guidelines on his precious horns that Arthur guaranteed he wouldn't follow. Horns grew back, right? He could never bring himself to ask such a stupid question, and he guessed it was too late now to sound like a coward.

He managed to close his eyes shut as a searing pain ripped through his whole body, like he was being sawed right down the middle. Arthur tried in vain to bite back a scream, and jammed his fangs into his bottom lip, until he tasted the irony, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He could feel a slick wetness spill onto his scalp, more blood that sept into his hair, making a scarlet bordeaux-ichor mix. The young devil was starting to feel nauseated and light-headed, as another fiery slash of pain rumbled through his body like an earthquake. This time he didn't bother fighting the screams that tore out of his throat, and through the blurriness of all the held-back tears, he could make out Alfred's pain in the form of his creased brows and unreadable expression as hot, salty liquid ran down his cheeks like streams.

With a soft _'thud'_, Arthur heard something roll off the table, and his heart plummeted to his guts. One down, one to go. His tail trashed uncontrollably under the weight of his body, before Arthur wound it around his leg and squeezed, like a boa-constrictor, to try and distract himself from the worsening pain. At one point, he felt like breaking free of the leather and metal restraints, but knew he didn't have the strength, not after all the blood-loss. After a pain that felt like his vital organs had been ripped out of his body by force and had tried to be rearranged to make a diagram of a face, another soft _'thud' _ended the prince's angst.

An over-head mirror was pulled down from behind him and was positioned over his face, he could hear Ivan say something like, "It's done, take a look.", and was glad that he hadn't eaten anything beforehand. Black ichor ran down his face from his horn-stumps, and from his split-lip. All the color had been washed from his face, and he noticed that the lines under his eyes had grown worse, making him look way older than he was. "If only I had Greed's youthful looks," he though bitterly, "Though I'd end up looking even more sorry than this."

Yao picked up on the prince's horror and added flatly, "We'll cast a charm over your body so that you'll become one of the nations, if that's what your _so_ worried about." But Yao's eyes picked up on a small, spiraling rune just over the apple of Arthur's cheek and jeered, "Aiyah, looks like someone bet us to the punch..." The Chinese demon turned his head to Alfred, who simply gave him the cold shoulder and middle-finger. If Arthur's hands weren't bound, he'd punch Yao right into next Wednesday. But for now, he could only blush angrily.

"Never mind that, we need to send you and Alfred off tonight," Ivan said, and released Arthur before he called up Alfred, who treated it exactly like a doctor's check-up. Arthur could hardly stand the pain first-hand, so he excused himself and waited outside, not wanting to see be done from a third-person view. After five minutes of unprintable strings of curses, no screams or cries, Alfred retrieved the prince for the last step.

Arthur walked back inside with Alfred and was led deeper into the Chamber, to a room he'd never seen before. Inside, he saw a giant transmutation circle, used in alchemy and for this matter, charms. The two were told to stand in the middle of the circle, and the three other demons conducted the hardest charm of the night, the transfer charm.

It was so difficult because it was only effective against nations, so none of the Allied Sins knew what they'd turn out like, they could only rely on one tip, the nation a devil resemble the closest appearance-wise would become their temporary embodiment. Francis, the most experienced with charms second to Alfred, said the nation that Arthur was transmuted to had recently became sick, though Alfred's nation embodiment was still alive and very strong, so they simply made a similar copy of him for Alfred.

"Ze difference between ze two will lie in those which see." Was Francis's hint for telling the difference between the two, apart from a slight difference in their voices that Arthur wouldn't be able to notice. But Arthur was too tired to be worrying over riddles that made his head hurt just thinking about.

After a series of charms to make sure they'd stay alive throughout their stay, and certain tweaks to their outward behavior so they wouldn't look suspicious. Then, it was time to depart.

"We'll see the two of you again before you know it," Yao farewelled, almost pleasantly for once, before muttering something like "They're not coming back alive...", as he and Francis left Ivan to see the pair off.

"Now, you'll both be transferred over to the human world together, but there's a chance you might be separated. If that happens, wait until night and fly to the tallest building you see or whatever. Then figure a plan out between the two you to stay in each others sight without being to obvious. Now go." The Russian man pushed them into the Portal.

Through the rushing of air as he tumbled through space and time, he distantly heard Wrath shout a final warning, but neither Arthur or Alfred knew what he was saying. Too bad they were going to find out what he said the hard way.


End file.
